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Friday, September 2, 2016

ROADSIDE ASSISTANCE by Marie Harte

Roadside Assistance releases Sept 6th

ISBN 978-1492630296

An Amazon Best Book of the Month!

Underneath the axle grease and tats He's a gentleman
Foley Sanders figured he'll always be content with a life of cars and
casual hookups. Until a run-in with Cyn, a statuesque firecracker with a
hate-on for men, leaves him bewitched and intrigued-much to her
annoyance.

Maybe Cynthia Nichols was a little hard on Foley, that
muscular, tattooed, super-hot mechanic next door. But she's tired of
feeling defensive about her size and has sworn off men. She's got a new
job, new life, perfect plan. Foley has trouble written all over him-no
way is she going to fall for his charms.

Foley might look like a
bad idea, but underneath, he's all gentleman. Too bad Cyn's not buying
it. What's a bad boy to do when the goddess of his dreams won't give him
the time of day?

“Have I mentioned I’m thinking
about becoming the neighborhood cat lady?” she said to Nina just as the bell
over the front door chimed again. She finished cleaning up after the last
order, not looking at Nina. But her friend’s silence made her curious.

A glance at Nina’s smirk had her
groaning inside, because trouble was sure to follow.

“Hey, Foley,” Nina said with way too much pleasure. “How are you?”

“Lookin’ good, Nina. How’s Matt?”

“He’s great. And if he’s smart,
he’s done all his Christmas shopping by now. Not like last year’s fiasco.”

The deep chuckle went straight
through Cyn…and had her bristling at her reaction.

“I, ah, I’m here to apologize to
your friend, actually.”

Cyn took that as her cue to turn
around. Hell. Foley Sanders looked even better under the bright lights of the
shop. She tried to pretend she wasn’t studying him as intently as he studied
her.

But damn, where the hell had he
come from? He topped her own grand six feet by a few inches, and even despite
his jacket, she couldn’t detect any body fat on the man. He had broad shoulders
and—as she vividly recalled from eyeballing him at the garage—huge, tattooed
arms.

Short black hair framed a handsome
face. Rough and manly. He had a five-o’clock shadow, and that rumpled hair look
that on her would have appeared messy but on him shouted “sexy.” Bright gray
eyes watched her with caution, showing he had a measure of intelligence under
all that muscle and ink.

She steeled herself not to get
taken in by so much manliness. Neighborhood
cat lady, remember? Besides, his cars are littering the parking lot! Men suck.
He’s probably only into skinny chicks anyway.

That made her feel better,
imagining his intolerance for real women.

But real women can be any size. Plump or stick thin, fat or slender,
tall or… Shut up, Cyn! This isn’t time for a life lesson. Deal with Conan, and
love your gender later.

“Yes?” she said with an icy
politeness that had Nina trying to bite back a grin.

“I’m sorry. I think we got off on
the wrong foot.” He smiled, but she wasn’t buying the charm. “I’m Foley
Sanders.” He held out a hand.

Nina stepped on her foot, and she
jerked toward Foley before realizing it. She glared at Nina before reminding
herself to be a professional. She’d dealt with overwhelming men before and
would no doubt again. So she held out her hand and pasted a smile on her face.
“Cyn Nichols.”

He blinked. “You’re related to
Matt?”

“Yes, is there a problem with
that?” She didn’t even have to pretend to be tired of that question. Matt was
so handsome and in shape and popular. What tree had they shaken her out of?

“Not at all.” His grin broadened.
“I just hadn’t realized Matt had such a hot sister.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Before I somehow piss you off
again, I’m here to get the cars,” he said in a hurry. “Dale, our new guy, must
have parked them in the wrong spot. Apparently our agreement was with the
sewing place next door, not your parking lot. And I’m sorry I never answered
your calls. I misplaced my phone again.” He gave her a disarming smile
that—damn it—worked.

She felt herself blushing. “Oh.
Sorry if I came on a little strong.” A little? Even she knew she’d been
over-the-top bitchy. “It’s just that we had some complaints from customers, and
I couldn’t understand why no one had gotten back to me.” She still didn’t understand
that. What professional these days ever parted with his or her cell phone? But
he’d made amends, so she could forgive him the lapse. “So you’ll move the
cars?”

He held up a ring of tagged keys.
“Right away, Ms. Nichols.”

“How do you know I’m not a Mrs.?”
she asked, annoyed with the assumption. Was she so unattractive and ungainly
she couldn’t land a man?

He had the gall to wink and nodded
to her hand. “No ring. Trust me. First thing I checked…after that dress. That’s
a really, really nice dress you’re wearing.” He let out a small sigh and left
before she could think of something to say.

Like I’m sorry for being so damn defensive about my size. It’s not you, it’s
me. But then, it’s guys like you who made me this way. Well, you and my mother.

Thoughts of her mother scared her
straight. She’d told herself time and time again to stop letting Ella Nichols
dictate her feelings about herself. She just needed to follow her own advice.

“Ahem.”

Knowing she had to face the
inevitable, she looked at the smug woman standing next to her and groaned at
Nina’s wide smile.

“You and Foley Sanders. Oh my God,
will you guys have the best-looking, tallest babies or what?”